


Delicate

by the_fault_in_our_words



Series: Delicate [1]
Category: Hardigan
Genre: F/M, Original work - Freeform, Tom Hardy - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-22
Updated: 2013-11-22
Packaged: 2018-01-02 08:21:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1054591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_fault_in_our_words/pseuds/the_fault_in_our_words
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes there is nothing more destructive than love...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Delicate

**Author's Note:**

> Its basically a fix of original work but Tom was on my mind the whole time I was writing Charlie. There is nothing in this world I love more than reviews, especially character study ones. Make me think!

It was supposed to be a simple walk. A chance to breath in the briny North Carolina coastal air. Walking towards the small coffee shop that faced the gray watered sea should have been routine. I spotted him immediately. I had seen him so many times out of the corner of my eye, apparitions, really, that when I saw him I stilled, unable to move. The years had changed him some. His shoulders broader, his slim build muscular. These things did not change, dark grey eyes framed by thick lashes, the full lips, girl like in their beauty. His brown hair closely cut and the scruff on his face, these things were familiar. As was the tension he held in his shoulders, a quiet brutality he gave off. Before I had a chance to turn and run he caught my gaze, paling slightly. He gave a deliciously slow wink, a small smile played on his lips. My first instinct was to run, then again I never was one to listen to common sense. I walked over to him and sat down. The physical act of breathing was acutely painful around him. He stared, far to intensely, I had to avert my eyes.He was goldenly tan, but from being outside. I tried to pinpoint a spot on him to look but gave in and turned myself slightly to my right and towards the waves. He sighed  
"Well hello sweetheart, I see you still haven't managed to get out of this town yet."  
"Surprised are we?" he laughed, a hard laugh that squeezed in my chest. I stared at him full on and I could see the same hatred burning in his eyes as mine. I count slowly in my head calming me down, keeping the fury in check and my hand from slapping him.  
"What the fuck are you doing here, Charlie?"  
" I haven't seen you in years, aren't you even slightly curious as to why I am back?" He cocked his head, a condescending grin on his face.  
"No, not at all. I could care less to be honest." I stood up brushing past him. His hand grabbed my wrist.   
"So cold." I tried to yank free but he tightened his grip, sending a brief sharp pain through my nerves. Another awkward silence, a shared look rippling between us.   
"Sit the fuck down, Nora." He didn't raise his voice, or talk through his teeth. He sat relaxed, calm, and terrifying. He sensed I was about to move and raised his eyebrows slightly. I sat down, knowing this was not a fight I could win. I could see the bruise on my wrist already starting to form. He still drilled his glare into me, lovely grey eyes, frigid towards me. He could sense my resignation to this matter.  
"Tell me, love, what is it you do now days?"  
"I bartend."  
"Ah, now we are getting somewhere. I have to say I don't quite remember you being so monosyllabic." The cruelness to his small smile, a twitch of his lips, really, did not go unnoticed. So I did what I always did, I ran like hell.  
"You always were a good liar." He stared, something hard and cold in those eyes, but also a remembrance still left in them, soft as a whisper, a tenderness too dangerous. The slight tremble in my hands not too apparent. It was like an atom bomb going off the moment I saw Charlie. A slow mental break down. Fuck. Fuck atom bombs, and most of all fuck him.   
This is the thing about me and emotions, I hate them. They consume and overwhelm. This is why I will go to any length to bury them. Thankfully this is has a fairly simple answer, Oxy's. Pop three, crunch, crunch swallow and take a deep breath. It doesn't take long for the effects to take in a lovely blurry way. Hitting first at the back of the neck and spreading in a tingle everywhere else. Then, its gone, the remembrance of his smell, cigarettes and alcohol, and the smell the world takes on after a spring rain, no longer grips me, it slips gently away. And now? Now I can be a totally different person. The art of this is to get out of my head, to keep a very far distance from it, nothing in there is safe or sound, but this glow, this is. My shift at the bar starts at eight tonight. This job was nothing more than a natural progression of my life. When you spend a childhood getting your fathers drinks, lets just say it comes in really handy when looking for a job. Yeah the benefits are terrible, but with a smile and a charm those tips can come in pretty nice.   
The Rolling Stone could be worse. It could be sleazier, dirtier, and slightly more of a dive bar. With that said, its not too far away from being that bar. Well, at least there are no strippers. I'm on a fresh high, it loosens me up, allows me to get through the social interactions. My smile tells them I am as innocent as a virgin, my eyes tell them I can be whatever they want me to be in their head. I keep my black skirt short, but with class. My crisp white button up shirt, unbuttoned just enough. My dark brown hair clipped up but framed with tendrils, showing off my large green eyes. This has become so easy it is almost boring now. The lighting has left us all in shadows, a bruising effect. Jack, our lovely bearded owner, plays the music he wants and that "Does not include god damn southern rock". We have our older men, drinking large glasses of regret day after day, but mostly we have a younger crowd, and those are the ones you have to work harder for tips. Their eyes taunt show me something, reveal something. If you're smart, you can give this to them while giving nothing of yourself, like a one night stand.  
There is a frantic movement night after night here. Something one could so easily get lost in it becomes an addiction in itself. Chaos keeps you out of your head, and there is no territory more dangerous than that. I am waiting on a young guy, shaggy hair and electric blue eyes. I give him my best smile and I know it dazzles, it is a smile of hunger but he has no idea of its meaning. I head to the bar to yell at Jack through the noise.  
"Jack and coke." He rolls his eyes at me and slides the drink over. As I bring it to the slightly nervous kid in the corner I place his drink down "accidentally" brush his hand with my own. I sense a damn good tip coming my way with very little effort. I hear Jack yell "Guy in the left corner Norah". I scan to the left, allowing my eyes to narrow. Charlie leans against the wall, attracting rather annoying looks from the young girls. An electric blue plaid shirt, unbuttoned just enough, and a pair of perfectly fitting blue jeans on him and I stiffle an eye roll.  
" What do you want."  
" Whiskey and ice, hold the water." I grab his drink and hand it to him, careful our hands dont touch, which warrents a fairly loaded eyebrow raise. I wonder how long he has been watching. I have four hours left on this shift and I sneak to the bathroom and take the tiny white pill, with almost no filler and crush it. It burns the nose slightly, but the high is so much quicker one can overlook it. I flirt my way to a hefty sum of money. With each whiskey I see him becoming more unsteady, sending darker looks my way. By the time we get everyone out only he is left. Jack gives me a sigh  
"You gotta get him out of here." I give a small hissing laugh  
"He is not my problem."  
"You obviously know him, no one else does, so yeah that makes it your issue." I turn and go to him, I watch him stand, swaying slightly.  
"You have to go, now". He stares at me as though he can't quite comprehend what I have said. Leaning closer he takes his hand and places it on my cheek, running his thumb softly along my bottom lip. I shy away but it is barley noticeable. He leans in so close to my ear I can feel the scratch of his stubble, a brush of his achingly full bottom lip against my ear.  
"What happened to that light in you, love." looking me in the eye, almost uncomfortably long and there is the vapor, the softest whisper of tenderness. I feel a tightening in my throat unwelcome, a feeling so buried it fucking burns. I grab his hand and slowly lead him to my place. He obviously has no where else for tonight and my hate is so very powerfully over run by the need for sleep, I can't even begin to consider damage control for this.


End file.
